“I’m so sorry. I know that must be hard. Especially right now.”
“Yeah. I think that’s why I was really crying in the bathroom this morning. I mean he and I used to be sooooooo close.”
“Well, is there anything you can do to repair your relationship?”
Nikkie sighed. “I don’t know. I mean . . . I just don’t know.” She wiped away a tear that was forming in the corner of her eye. “He doesn’t approve of my lifestyle.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t approve of your lifestyle? Doesn’t he realize you’re an adult?”
“It doesn’t matter to him. As far as he’s concerned, I’m doing wrong and he can’t accept it.”
“What the heck is it you’re doing that he considers so wrong?”
“Just living my life.” Nikkie sucked her teeth. “It’s a long, boring story.”
The two women fell back into silence.
“Well,” Jenice said finally. “Well, at least you have Hal. I’m sure he’s been some comfort to you. I know how close the two of you are.”
Nikkie raised her eyebrow. “Do you really?”
Jenice nodded. “Or I can guess, anyway. Not that it’s any of my business—”
“Hal and I are cool, but that’s it,” Nikkie said, cutting Jenice off. “He must have called me a dozen times while I was home to make sure I was okay, and he’s been extra nice since I’ve been back, but, if anything, he makes me feel worse.”
Jenice averted her eyes and said, “Part of that lifestyle thing you referred to a little while ago, I guess?”
Nikkie said nothing, which said everything.
“Jenice, you said you knew how it felt to lose your parents. When did yours pass? Or do you mind my asking?” Nikkie finally asked.
Jenice shook her head. “No, not at all. It happened when I was a kid. My parents and my brother and two sisters were all killed in a fire.”
Nikkie dropped the French fry she was holding. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. It was on my birthday, in fact. I had just turned four.
There was an electrical fire that started in the den. Mommy and Dad let me sleep in their bed, since I was the birthday girl, and we woke up around four in the morning because we smelled smoke. By the time Dad opened the door, the whole upstairs was in flames. They dropped me from the bedroom window to safety; I broke my leg, but otherwise I was fine. Then they went to try and get to my siblings. When the firefighters came, they found them all huddled together in the hallway.”
“Oh, my God.”
Jenice closed the magazine, which had still been open in front of her on the table. “I didn’t have any other family, so I was raised in foster care. All the horror stories you hear about foster care are true, by the way. I managed to graduate high school with honors, somehow, and I got a full academic scholarship to Stanford. And here I am.”
“Wow” was all Nikkie could say. “You’ve had one helluva life.”
Jenice laughed. “Don’t say had. It’s not over yet, you know.”
“I know, I was just . . .” Nikkie shrugged. “You’ve really lived quite a life. I don’t know how I would have made it.”
“Faith in God got me through. I give praise to the Almighty every day.” She paused. “And that’s who you have to turn to.” She put her hand over Nikkie’s. “Things may seem bleak right now, but with His help, you can get through it.”
Nikkie nodded. “Mama was very religious. I promised her that I was going to find a church as soon as I got to New York, and here it is, I’ve been in the city almost a year and I’ve yet to attend one service.”
“Well, you’re welcome to come check out my church. I go to Abyssinina.”
Nikkie’s brow furrowed. “I’ve heard of that. The one that Adam Clayton Powell used to minister, right?”
“Yep. Both senior and junior. Up in Harlem.” She paused. “It’s a black church.”
Nikkie smiled and popped another French fry in her mouth. “I’ve been in black churches before.”
Jenice’s left eyebrow lifted. “Okayyyyyy.”
“So you went to Stanford, huh? I’ve always wanted to go to California. What was that like?”
“Different. Very different. I had a good time, though. I made it out to Los Angeles and Hollywood quite a few times, and even made it out to Mexico once.”
“Wow. Living in Detroit, of course, I’ve been to Canada a few times, but I would have loved to go out to Mexico. It seems so exotic.”
“I only made it out to Tijuana, which is a lot more poor than exotic. But where did you go to school?”
“Delaware.” Nikkie paused, then added, “Delaware State.”
“Delaware State? Really? You went to Delaware State?”
Nikkie nodded. The question in Jenice’s eyes was unmistakable.
And Jenice also recognized the statement in Nikkie’s eyes. She’d gone far enough and would go no further.
“Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Nikkie slammed her hand down on the table. “It’s usually slow on Mondays. Do you have anything big going on in the office this afternoon?”
Jenice shook her head.
“Well, neither do I. How about we play hooky and go shopping?”
“Hooky, huh?” Jenice tapped her fingers on the table for a few seconds. “Why the hell not,” she said finally. “I think we could both use a break.”
To think, for months now we couldn’t stand each other, and after just a half day, Jenice and I are acting like best friends, Nikkie thought as they left McDonald’s. And why the hell not? I could use a new best friend.
“I tell you, there’s nothing like an afternoon shopping at Bloomingdale’s to cheer a woman up.”
“True, true,” Jenice agreed. “Even if we’re going to starve for the next couple of months to pay off our credit card bills.”
Fifty-ninth Street and Lexington Avenue was bustling that afternoon, as always, and was about to get even busier as the evening rush hour began. Still, the two women took their time, swinging their shopping bags, as they made their way toward 63rd Street to catch the crosstown bus back to the west side of Manhattan.
“I can’t wait to try out my new shoes on the dance floor,” Jenice said, taking a sip of the soda they had bought from one of the street vendors.
“I can’t see how you’ll be able to walk in those things, much less dance in them.”
“Girl, please. Back in the day I did the Harlem Shake in heels twice as high as these.”
“Now, you know what? That’s a dance I was never able to master. I mean, I did it, but I know I wasn’t doing it right.”
Jenice stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Please don’t tell me you dance like a white girl.” She started laughing.
Nikkie sucked her teeth. “I’ll have you know I can dance my ass off, thank you very much. I may not have gotten the Harlem Shake down, but I bet I can Chicken Noodle Soup circles around you!”
“Ya think so, huh?” Jenice snorted. “Hmph, bet you can’t.”
“Bet I can.”
“How much you wanna bet?”
“Oh no, you’re not challenging me to a dance-off, girl.” Nikkie put her hand on her hip. “A’ight, you’re on. Whatcha doing tonight?”
“Taking your money, honey. Where do you wanna go?”
“Hmm, you ever been to Doors?” Nikkie asked as the two women started walking again.
“I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never been. I thought you had to be a celebrity or something to get in.”
Nikkie winked. “Don’t worry. I got the hook up. And believe me, the place is nice.”
“Yeah, all right, but I don’t want to go if it’s an all-white club.”
Nikkie waved her hand. “Don’t worry. It’s mixed.”
“Mixed meaning what? Three hundred whites, a hundred Asians, and five or six blacks?” Jenice challenged. “And be honest.”
Nikkie made a face. “Uh, well, yeah. Not quite that bad, but, yeah, I know what you mean.”
<
br /> “Okay, that might work, but, um, are you planning on having Hal come along?”
“No, no, of course not. Why would I do that?”
Jenice laughed. “Oh please. I don’t think most of the people in the office know what’s going on between you two, but you haven’t fooled me.”
“Well, we’re just friends,” Nikkie said lamely. “I mean, we go out, but it’s nothing serious. Just someone to hang out with sometime.”
“Yeah. Okay. None of my business, anyway.”
The two women fell silent for a moment, before Jenice finally cleared her throat. “Nikkie, I have to ask you, though. I mean, why would you go out with him at all?”
Nikkie shrugged. “Oh, he’s really not a bad guy. In fact—”
“You don’t find him a little bit racist?”
“Who, Hal? Naw. I mean, he says some stupid things sometimes, but a lot of white folks do.”
Jenice snorted. “Not as often as Hal.”
“No.” Nikkie shook her head. “Hal’s not prejudiced. He even sponsors kids from Somalia. I bet you didn’t know that.”
“Oh yeah, I know. He’s shown me the pictures. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a racist. Even if he doesn’t realize it.”
“Jenice, I’m sorry but—”
“Well, well, well. It seems I’m not the only one who was shopping at Bloomie’s this afternoon.”
The baritone voice made Nikkie’s heart skip a beat. She took a deep breath to slow it down before turning and looking into those beautiful eyes.
“Tyrone. How are you?”
“I’m doing fine, thanks. Just finished doing a little shopping. My mother’s birthday.” He held up a tiny Bloomingdale’s bag, which screamed, “I’m very expensive!” At least in Nikkie’s imagination.
“Too bad we didn’t run into you while we were there,” Jenice said with a wide smile on her face. “We could have given you a woman’s opinion.”
To Nikkie’s dismay, Tyrone turned his own bright smile on Jenice. “And I would have appreciated it, although after shopping for birthday and Christmas gifts for my mother and sister for the past thirty-odd years, I think I’ve learned a thing or two about what a woman likes. When all else fails, just go with jewelry.”
“Tyrone, I’d like to introduce you to my coworker, and friend,” Nikkie hastily interjected, “Jenice Hanford. Jenice, this is Tyrone Bennett.”
“My pleasure, Jenice.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
The sparkle in Jenice’s eyes was fast getting on Nikkie’s nerves, especially since Tyrone hadn’t averted his. Her heart plunged at the tragic reminder. In Tyrone’s eyes she was the white girl. Jenice was the potential date.
And as if Tyrone were reading her mind . . .
“Well, shopping always makes me thirsty. If you two young ladies don’t have to hurry off, why not let me treat you to a drink? Or if you prefer an early dinner, why not let me take you to B. Smith’s?”
“We’d love it,” Jenice answered almost before the question had been asked. “In fact, I think we almost met before. I believe you know another coworker of ours. Yanna Goldberg.”
Tyrone’s brow furrowed. “I can’t say that I place the name.”
“Actually, I think you know her fiancé, Jacob. He’s your accountant?”
Tyrone snapped his fingers. “Oh right.”
“Well, do you remember going out with them to see The Color Purple? Yanna asked me to come along, but I had to pass. Now I’m sorry I did.” Jenice batted her eyes.
“Well, it was my loss, I’m sure. But now I’ll have the pleasure of taking both you and Nicole out to dinner to make up for it.”
Nikkie took a deep breath. “Actually, I have to rush off, sorry. But you two enjoy yourselves.”
The polite thing would have been for Jenice to then say she’d just remembered that she also had something to do, but instead the young woman said exactly what Nikkie would have said, had their roles been reversed.
“Oh, are you sure you can’t join us?” If Jenice was trying to sound regretful, she wasn’t succeeding.
“Positive. But you two have a good time. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, Jenice. Tyrone, it was good seeing you again. Take care.” Nikkie quickly stepped off the sidewalk and put her hand out for a cab. Thankfully, one screeched to a halt in front of her before the tears rimming her eyes overflowed.
Chapter Twenty
Later that same evening Nikkie sighed deeply as his kisses moved down her throat to the nape of her neck, his hands expertly kneading her back and fingering the snaps of her bra through her silk blouse. If only she could feel the way she wanted to feel, the way she knew he wanted her to feel. But instead, she stood there, pushed up against her bedroom wall, trying to figure one more excuse to push the oh-so-verypatient Hal Richardson away.
“Hal, I’m sorry,” she said while extricating herself from his embrace. “I guess I’m just not, you know, into it.”
“But why?” Hal’s voice had the usual pleading note it took on in these cut-short make-out sessions. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, no, I mean”—Nikkie searched for something new to say, but finally came up with the old standard—“it’s not you, Hal. It’s me.”
“Nikkie, please. I mean, what is it?” He sat on the bed, then took her hand and pulled her into a sitting position next to him. “You say it’s you and not me. Are you trying to tell me you’re frigid?”
Hmm, now that’s a convenient way out. But, no, she couldn’t
bring herself to tell that kind of embarrassing lie. “No, it’s just
that. Well, I kind of think our time has passed.”
“Our what?”
“Well, we’ve known each other for so long just as friends that I can’t imagine going to bed with you at this point. I think it would ruin our relationship.”
Hal stepped back and took a long look at her before saying anything else. “Nikkie, you know I’m not trying to get you in bed. I don’t want to engage in premarital sex, you know that.”
“I do,” Nikkie said, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for her behavior. “But it’s just that, well, I mean, you know I’m not a virgin, and with us being so platonic so long, I’ve just begun to think of you as a friend, not as a boyfriend.”
Hal’s mouth dropped open and he leaned away from her for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. “You know, between me and my buddies, I thought I’d heard it all, but this is the lamest excuse anyone can think of.”
Nikkie couldn’t agree more, but she crossed her arms over her chest and put a hurt look on her face. “What do you mean?”
“Look, we’ve known each other for almost a year, we’ve been going out for like eight months, and I’ve done everything but try to get in your panties for at least five and a half of those months. So don’t start with this ‘we’ve been friends for too long’ bullshit.” Hal stood up. “If you’re just not into me, then just say you’re not into me.”
“Okay, fine.” Nikkie stuck her lip out. “I’m just not into you.”
“Well, why couldn’t you have just admitted that eight months ago?”
“I’m admitting it now, okay?” Nikkie looked up at him and immediately wished she hadn’t. The attitude in his voice hadn’t reached his eyes, which reflected the pain she knew she’d just inflicted.
He picked up the jacket he’d thrown over a chair and walked to the bedroom door. He put his hand on the knob, opened it, and then slowly turned back toward Nikkie, though his eyes stayed on the floor. “Is it something that I’ve said? Or something that I did, Nikkie? Is it the way I act? I mean, do you think I’ve been coming on too strong?” With a bitter laugh he added, “I’ve tried to be patient, because I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with the death of your parents, but damn, Nikkie, you could have told me a long time ago I was just wasting my time.”
“Hal, I—”
She didn’t have the opportunity to finish wh
at she didn’t know how to finish. Hal was gone, closing the door quietly behind him.
Chapter Twenty-One
He didn’t come in the next day, or the day after that. In fact, two weeks had gone by and Hal Richardson hadn’t shown up for work. The first few days he hadn’t even bothered to call in, sending some of the higher-ups into a panic. It wasn’t like their golden boy to just drop the ball without at least trying to hand it off. On Monday of the second week, they received an after-hours voice mail message from him saying that he had a family emergency that he had to fly out to Salt Lake City to handle.
Nikkie doubted that he’d really flown out to Utah, though. She’d gotten more than three dozen hang-ups on her home and cell phone numbers from Hal’s phone, along with another dozen or so from various pay phones in Manhattan.
For her part, she’d left about fifteen messages on his voice mail: “Hal, please give me a call. We need to talk.” All went unanswered, though the hang-ups continued.
She didn’t just feel guilty, she felt devastated. How can I be so busy messing up my life and everyone else’s around me at the same time?
She’d had time to think about the whole situation, and had to admit she’d led Hal on—and done so while knowing there could never be anything real between them. And it wasn’t just the fact that she was turned off by Hal physically. It was also that something told her if she crossed that line—took a white lover—she would be making a statement that she was not sure she wanted to make: this was her life, and she was white.
Hal had been nice, and, more important, he’d been convenient. Having him squire her around solidified the role she needed to play to get what and where she wanted. She’d never meant to hurt him, but she took no steps to avoid doing so. Nikkie had been to the Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church, a few blocks away from her apartment, every night that week begging Jesus to forgive her selfishness.
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